Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Blue
A beautiful sunset.
A shaded street with perfectly manicured lawns, and homes situated on their own multi-acre lots.
Even surrounded by such undeniable beauty, I’ve felt nothing but dread this entire drive. None of us are looking forward to being thrust right into the middle of whatever drama the Empress Circle is sure to drum up, which accounts for most of the silence inside Joss’s car. But the other factor adding to the tension?
Tiffany.
Or, more specifically, the fact that she’s in the mother of all bad moods right now.
A short, mumbled hey when she first got into the car is all she’s had to say. But as I opened my phone, preparing to indulge in a little doom scrolling to fill the silence, I came across Pandora’s post, making it clear why Tiffany’s being so standoffish.
My heart sinks just thinking about how she probably feels. Honestly, I hate this—the tiny fractures in our circle. It was once so airtight that no one could’ve ever convinced me things would change. Only, they have changed.
A lot.
And it fucking sucks.
Jules: WTF? #WanderLost? Who the hell does this bitch think she is?
My chest feels tight when I sigh. I knew this was coming, Jules’s reaction to Pandora’s bullshit moniker. The worst part is that these things are never a one-off. Once she brands you, you’re branded for life. Hell, I’ve been #NewGirl since I was eighteen, and here I am in my mid-twenties, still known as fucking #NewGirl. And don’t even get me started on Joss. Dane made sure the “virgin” in her #VirginVixen moniker was null and void several years ago. Yet, it stuck.
My point is, Jules will have to find peace with this. Because no matter what path she takes from here, to Pandora’s minions, she will always be #WanderLost.
Blue: I’m so sorry, Jules. Seems none of us are off limits this time.
Dez: I swear, I saw red when I read that BS.
Lexi: What gives her the fucking right?
I lift my eyes from our group chat as Joss eases up the driveway, and a wrought iron gate slowly closes behind us.
“Well, this is it,” she sighs.
We gaze out through the windshield, gawking at the enormous white, three-story mansion belonging to the team’s former quarterback and his wife—Reed and April Lawson. The home has a ton of character and exudes a flare of Midwest charm that’s hard to capture with houses this size. The rose bushes are perfectly trimmed, just like the large topiaries spaced between the towering pillars of the wraparound porch. As I take it all in, I’m hit with this strange sense of inferiority.
After doing a little research the other night, I quickly realized April’s basically the model football wife. She attends every single game, she’s well-known and respected within her church and the community, and she’s somehow always camera ready. And now that I’m staring at her home, it looks eerily familiar. Pretty sure it’s because I saw it featured on an issue of Better Homes and Gardens during one of my many trips to the doctor.
I take a breath, letting it out as I imagine what and who might be awaiting us on the other side of the threshold.
“Is it just me, or is it weird that so many of them are already here?” Joss says. “I mean, despite running a bit behind at first, we made good time.”
My eyes flit toward the clock. She’s right. We made it with time to spare. I lift my gaze toward the circular drive next, scanning the long line of shiny SUVs and sports cars.
“It’s almost like… there was a meeting before the meeting, you know?”
“Exactly,” Joss agrees.
That sense of dread grows, swirling in my gut like bad sushi.
“Well, we’re here,” I sigh. “May as well make the best of it, right?”
It takes Joss a moment to answer, and when she does, the response lacks any trace of enthusiasm. “If you say so.”
The next second, she flings her door open, then steps out onto the driveway. Tiffany and I do the same, and we’re right behind her. I shoot a quick message to the group chat, letting them know we’re here and will have to continue the conversation later. Now, for the next hour or so, it’s all about the Empress Circle.
It’d be nice to walk into this as a united front, seeing as how it feels more like an ambush than anything. However, when I glance toward Tiffany from the corner of my eye, I get the feeling she’d rather be anywhere but here, with anyone but Joss and me.
The bad feeling I’ve had about tonight only worsens with every second that passes.
Joss rings the bell, sending my heart into a full-blown panic. My nerves get the best of me, too, and I’m fidgeting with my hair and clothes. It’s like preparing for a blind date, praying you meet the guy’s expectations, praying you don’t mess everything up. Only, in this scenario, I’m not just hoping to earn one person’s approval.
There’s an entire swarm to worry about.
The door swings open, and I hold my breath, forcing a smile I can only hope looks natural.
“Ladies! Welcome!” April screeches, and I hate how difficult it is to tell if she’s being sincere or not. If I only had her expression to go by, I’d buy it, but then I remember how she and the others side-eyed and snubbed us at the press conference.
Yep, no chance this is genuine.
“I hope you don’t mind. I made you nametags. The other girls are wearing them, too,” she says, pulling stickers off a sheet that she then presses to our chests without warning.
My smile tightens as I pretend I’m not weirded out by how she just aggressively invaded my personal bubble. “Perfect! Thank you.”
“Everyone’s out on the patio,” she says, smiling back. “I hired Chef Anton to cater this evening. Any of you ladies heard of him?”
“I have,” I answer. “He’s been the mayor’s go-to for years.”
“Because he’s fantastic!” she squeals. “And he’s prepared quite the spread for us tonight. Although, I’m not sure how much room you and Joss have for a second dinner.”
I feel my face twitch when she not-so-subtly brings up that she knows Joss and I have already eaten.
“And… that sounded like I’m stalking you,” she says with a laugh. “Sorry, I probably should’ve explained that I saw the pics you posted, Blue.”
What she doesn’t say is that she also saw Pandora’s post, but I’m positive she’s addicted to the gossip just like everyone else.
I force another tight, unnatural smile. “Oh. Right.”
Still smiling, April’s eyes shift to Tiffany next. “But what about you? I didn’t see you with the group, so maybe you’re hungry?”
At first, Tiffany seems caught off guard when she’s put on the spot. But then her eyes soften when she offers a quick nod. “I am. Thank you.”
April’s smile grows. “Good. We’ll make sure to take care of you then.”
After that, she reaches out, giving Tiffany’s hand a quick squeeze before letting go, but for some reason, I can’t shake the feeling that it’s… calculated.
On my own, I’m having a hard time deciding whether I’m being sensitive, reading too much into the subtleties in April’s behavior, the slight shade in her words. However, when I catch a glimpse of Joss from the corner of my eye—the tension in her jaw, the vein throbbing in her neck near the coils of her dark hair tucked behind her ear—I know it’s not just in my head.
April’s cunning, the type that gives off that barely - there shade. The kind that’s hard to call out because ill intentions are so easy to deny, but I see her.
“Right this way,” she says, turning on her heels to lead us through her massive home to the double doors on the far end of the great room.
We step out onto the patio. I’m not sure what I expected, but it wasn’t this—a tunnel of gold balloons leading us from the door to where the others are already laughing and mingling amongst themselves, tables topped with white linen and elaborate floral arrangements, an ice sculpture of the team’s logo beside the fountain. And there’s so much food. More than the women here tonight will ever eat.
A three-tiered cake sits on a round table to our left, surrounded by an array of gourmet cupcakes and cups of fresh fruit with mint sprigs perched in the middle. The next place my gaze lands is on a table with nothing but charcuterie boards made up of artisanal crackers and a top-tier selection of meats and cheeses. Servers glide gracefully between the guests as they chat, carrying trays topped with flutes of champagne filled to the brim, ensuring that no one ever has an empty glass in hand.
“Wow. This looks… amazing,” Tiffany says, and for the first time since we picked her up, she’s smiling.
“Tonight’s meant to kickoff you girls’ journey with us,” April says. “It’s a big deal, which seemed like the fitting time to throw an equally big party.”
Tiffany glances around, taking it all in before once again meeting April’s gaze. “Thank you. This means a lot.”
There’s a gleam in April’s eye, hearing Tiffany’s praise. “You’re welcome. And call it a hunch, but I get the feeling you’re going to be a great asset to the Empress Circle. All of you,” she quickly adds, glancing toward Joss and me.
Needing a break from April’s bullshit, I look away, scanning the decorations again. But this time, I notice all the eyes on us as the other women glare from a distance, whispering to one another. Even with all the bright colors and upbeat music, I’m not fooled.
They don’t want us here.
“Why don’t you three have a seat right here at this table, and I’ll be back to check on you in a bit.”
I nod politely, but that’s all I have in me, glaring as April sashays away from us.
Finally.
She stops and greets a few of her guests, then stands front and center, raising a hand in the air.
“Ladies, if I could have your attention for just one moment, I promise to be brief. Our guests of honor have arrived, which makes now the perfect time to give them a proper welcome.”
She pauses a moment as a wave of reluctant applause fills the air.
“I think everyone here knows my name, but as a formality, allow me to introduce myself. My name is April Lawson, and it has been such a joy hosting the many meetings and events that we’ve put together over the years. It’s brought us all closer, and for that, I will be forever grateful.”
She pauses as her face reddens, swiping a tear from underneath her eye.
“As the wife of your team captain—or… former team captain—I cannot tell you what an honor this has been.”
This time when she pauses, it’s because her words would have otherwise been drowned out by the other women, clamoring to express how awesome she’s been and how much they love and appreciate her. It’s sweet, yeah, but also a little… uncomfortable.
“Okay, okay,” April laughs, fanning her face. “I need to get through this without full-on sobbing, but you all are making that impossible.”
She blows out a breath to compose herself before continuing.
“Whew. Okay. Anyway, while we may all be feeling somewhat unsettled with the slew of recent changes, there’s one thing that will never change. That we’re all family. And if there’s one thing we must know about family, it’s that there’s always room to grow,” she adds, scanning the patio to make eye contact with the others as she raises her glass into the air. “This is the dawning of a new day. So, please join me in welcoming the newest members of The Empress Circle, the newest members of our Cypress Pointe family—Blue Golden, wife of our new star QB, West Golden. Josslyn Francois, fiancé to our new defensive lineman, Dane Golden. And Tiffany Pierce, fiancé to our new wide receiver, Sterling Golden.”
What follows this introduction is another round of applause, but this time, it’s even less welcoming than the first. It’s hard to tell whether the intent is to make us feel like complete outsiders, but that’s exactly the effect it’s having.
“Ladies, I’d like for you to join me in a toast,” April speaks up, addressing the others once again. “Here’s to family.”
Lifting her glass higher into the air, the others do the same, and call me crazy, but I’m not feeling the love. For a split second, I manage to convince myself that I’m just being paranoid, but then April’s eyes lock with mine. She flashes another big smile, and there’s no doubt it’s insincere.
“Here’s to a bright, shining new future together,” she says, sipping from her glass while holding my gaze.
She’s right. This is the dawning of a new day. But what’s unclear is whether this new era will end in peace… or will it end the way I’m beginning to fear it might?
In war.
@QweenPandora:
Holy-ice-sculptures, Batman…
Word on the street is that tonight’s Empress Circle meeting was straight out of a fairytale. Preliminary pics show off the ginormous mansion belonging to Cypress Pointe’s former lead quarterback, Reed Lawson. But later, someone snagged a pic of our beloved #QueensOfCypressPointe looking about as iced out as that sculpture.
Apparently, our girls only stuck around for an hour, despite the hostess for the evening having spent a pretty penny on the food and decor, but who can blame them? If their welcome was as warm as the one the guys received at the press conference, I suppose I would’ve tucked tail and ran, too.
Oh, how the mighty have fallen.
Tough break, ladies, but who knows? Maybe things will turn around.
Then again, with your recent track record, I wouldn’t hold my breath.
Side Note 1: Someone sent this pic of #NewGirl and #KingMidas headed toward the southside in their blacked-out chariot five minutes ago. If you see where they land, you know what to do.
Side Note 2: #LostAngel and her boss, #TheGoodDoctor, were seen chatting it up in the parking lot of the vet clinic, but they weren’t alone. An adorable three-year old with his mom’s dark curls, and his dad’s smile was present, too. And what’s that clutched beneath his arm?
Hint: It isn’t a football.
It’s a stuffed dog.
Looks like he’s been spending so much time with #TheGoodDoctor, he’s even picked up his love for animals. Maybe you were a little too late getting back in town, #MrSilver, because your son seems to be confused about who to call Daddy.
And here I was thinking #LostAngel was the one being replaced, but maybe our beloved Golden Boy is the one being ousted.
Here’s a tip, #MrSilver: Try focusing more on your son, and less on #TheSubstitute.
Not sure how to ignore her? Just ask your family for tips. They’ve got it down to a science.
One last question before I go. Anyone else willing to bet the kiddo isn’t the only one calling #TheGoodDoctor Daddy?
Looking at you, #Lost Angel.
Later, peeps :)
—P